


Hand in Hand

by EvilMuffins



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Holding Hands, Illustrated, Sharing a Bed, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 18:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19836298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins
Summary: It wasn’t the first time that Makoto had wondered just what Haru thought of her. She had been raised to be polite after all. What if she saw her no differently from any other member of the group? Makoto could live with that, of course, but during shared lunchtimes at school, or pressed together side by side in the back of the Monabus, she couldn’t help herself from wishing for something just a little bit more.---Haru spends the night.





	Hand in Hand

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for the P5 Sleepover Zine!
> 
> Thanks to my gf for the beta!

Art by [Shui](https://www.instagram.com/doodlenab)

Each clap of thunder sent a fresh shiver running down Makoto’s back. Between jagged flashes touching down far too near for comfort outside of her window, she began to think that she would, on no uncertain terms, trade her Buchimaru-kun pencil case just for the power to stay on.

Just as Makoto’s shoulders began to relax following the latest boom, a new sound followed, one so soft that she almost began to wonder if she heard anything at all, save for the continued pounding of the rain. The sound came again, however, prompting Makoto to set down the book she had been attempting to read. It was just as well, she thought with a sigh, considering that she had re-read the same sentence five times already. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have the whole night ahead of her to finish the last few chapters, after all.

Usually, Sae would text if she was coming home early, but the weather might have caused her to be in a rush, Makoto assumed.

“Coming, Sis…”

However, once Makoto turned the knob, the drenched face looking back at her was considerably lower to the ground than that of her older sister.

Makoto blinked once, then twice, sideways rain dampening her face until recognition clicked into place.

“… _Haru?”_

“Mako-chan…” the soft voice that followed was nearly as drowned by the rain as the girl that it belonged to. “May I come in?”

“Of course!” Makoto insisted, ushering her friend inside. Although she knew it was only due to Haru’s upbringing, Makoto couldn’t help but feel a pang in her chest at the fact that Haru thought she had to ask for her hospitality. “What were you doing out in weather like this so late? Is everything alright?”

“I was out shopping,” Haru explained, water falling from the hem of her skirt in tiny droplets as she removed her sodden shoes in favor of the guest slippers Makoto hastily passed to her. “And I lost track of the time… I remembered your house was just around the corner from the boutique, so I came here. I hope that was alright…”

“Of course it was alright!” Makoto reassured her, despite the fact that she couldn’t help but wonder just why it was that Haru hadn’t called for her driver instead. Not that she was complaining about the cutest girl in school standing in her entryway, of course. “To be honest, I would be a little sad if you _didn’t_ think that you could rely on your teammates in a time of need.” Makoto smiled. “Now, sit down and I’ll get you a towel.”

Haru let out a soft gasp. “But your sofa!”

“It should dry before my sister comes home. She works late tonight,” Makoto explained as Haru carefully settled herself down.

While the prospect of a soggy cushion had crossed her mind, there was no way that she could leave Haru just standing there after battling the elements. In the Metaverse, Noir was a force of nature all on her own, cutting down any Shadow unlucky enough to cross their team’s path. But there in Makoto’s living room, gingerly perched upon the edge of her couch, Haru looked small—nearly fragile—and Makoto turned away to head for the linen closet.

“You know,” Makoto said, sitting down beside Haru, fluffy white towel in hand, “When I first opened up the door, I have to admit that I almost didn’t recognise you…”

“Really?” Haru giggled, stifling it behind one delicate hand as Makoto drapped the towel over her head, rubbing it back and forth.

“You just look a little different when your hair’s not curly.” The rain had tugged on Haru’s locks, hanging it around her face in heavy ribbons.

“Bad different?” Haru’s voice sounded from underneath the towel.

“No!” Makoto scrambled to disagree, nearly dropping the towel. “No, of course not.”

Haru laughed again, uninhibited this time, and in that instant Makoto thought that maybe—just _maybe_ \--making a fool of herself in front of a schoolmate might not be such a terrible thing. “I was only kidding, Mako-chan. No one looks perfect coming in out of a thunderstorm. Still, I can’t say that many people have seen me like that.”

“I’m honored,” Makoto replied, mouth tugging into the slightest of smirks as she took one more pass with the towel.

Satisfied that Haru was as dried off as she was going to get, Makoto pulled the towel away, the tips of her fingers brushing over Haru’s freshly fluffed curls.

The Niijima family had never had pets. While their father had mentioned the possibility of getting a dog at some point, the two sisters had known deep down that police work kept him too busy to take care of an additional family member. Even so, Makoto thought that if she were to pet a poodle, it wouldn’t be nearly as luxuriously soft as Haru’s hair.

“It’s alright,” Haru said, smile so encouraging that Makoto almost thought that she could spend the night in a haunted mansion alone, if only Haru were there to light up the room. “You can touch it, if you’d like.”

“Oh… Er… Okay…” Makoto stumbled, reaching out to tentatively pat the top of Haru’s head.

“I’m not Mona-chan, silly,” Haru admonished playfully, placing her smaller hand overtop Makoto’s, guiding her fingers through loosely coiled strands.

Makoto wondered if Haru could feel the sweat beading on her palm through all of that hair. A second thought crossed her mind then. It was rude to stare, and yet, even inside of the house she had lived in for her entire life, Makoto couldn’t think of another place to look but into Haru’s warmly expectant eyes.

“I should grab you some dry clothes…” Makoto pulled herself away, heading towards her bedroom and all the while hoping that Haru couldn’t tell how stiff and robotic her legs felt as she followed behind.

Opening up her top drawer--blouses neatly folded and stacked by color--Makoto hesitated before shutting it again, opting instead for the next drawer down.

“You really should stay the night,” Makoto said, presenting Haru with a set of pajamas.

“I couldn’t impose on you and Sae-san like that...” Despite her words, Haru reached out to accept the bundle of clothing, hugging it to her chest, still not yet fully dry.

“Please,” Makoto insisted firmly. 

“Alright,” Haru relented with a smile, taking the set of pajamas with her into the bathroom.

Makoto let out a sigh she didn’t realise she’d been holding in as she sunk down onto her bed, rubbing her fists into her eyes. 

Had she even really had a sleepover before? Makoto tried to think back. Somehow, she didn’t think that spending the night in Sae’s room following a very scary movie, on a _very_ dark night, when they were younger really counted. 

“Um… Mako-chan…?”

Makoto’s eyes flew open as she bolted upright. Immediately, she could see the problem right from where Haru bumbled into her doorway. 

Although the floral cotton shorts she had been given were on properly, the accompanying top was wrapped around her head like the towel cocoon Futaba had hidden her face in at the beach. 

“My hair got tangled up the buttons somehow,” Haru said apologetically, giving the top a tug in demonstration.

“Let’s see what’s going on here…” Just as Makoto rose in order to come to Haru’s aid, however, the sound of the front door opening again caused her to pause.

A set of familiar footsteps followed.

“Makoto? Whose shoes are those by the door? ...Oh. Oh my.” Sae coughed into her fist, averting her eyes from the scene of her little sister tugging the shirt off of another girl, frilly bra fully exposed to the room. “I’ll just, _ehem_ , be headed to my room a little early tonight.”

“Sis, wait!” Makoto called weakly as Sae hurried off. “It’s not like that…”

...Or maybe it _was_ like that, Makoto thought, cheeks warm as Haru snickered through the fabric still covering her face.

It wasn’t the first time that Makoto had wondered just what Haru thought of her. She had been raised to be polite after all. What if she saw her no differently from any other member of the group? Makoto could live with that, of course, but during shared lunchtimes at school, or pressed together side by side in the back of the Monabus, she couldn’t help herself from wishing for something just a little bit more. 

“Sae-san is much less stern than she likes to let on,” Haru commented fondly once her pajama top was properly arranged. 

“That’s what she wants you to think.” Makoto rolled her eyes in mock sarcasm, beginning to turn down the covers on the bed. Despite the attempt to busy herself, the image of Haru dressed in _her_ pajamas remained stubbornly at the forefront of her brain.

“You can take the bed,” Makoto offered, patting at her pillow, suddenly aware of how woefully understuffed it must have appeared to an heiress. “I know all of this isn’t exactly what you’re used to…”

“I think it’s wonderful,” Haru disagreed while seeming to embark on a self-guided tour of the other girl’s room, pausing to browse the bookshelves, or poke at an unsuspecting Buchimaru here or there. Once she finished her rounds, she turned back to Makoto, beaming up at her. “I think it’s very much like you, Mako-chan. So of course I’d be happy to stay here!”

“It’s not too, er, cramped for you?” Makoto asked, still not fully convinced as she glanced around the modest space. Their home was so humble compared to the Okumura mansion…

“Not at all!” Haru exclaimed. “In fact, I think that the bed might be big enough to share. ...If that would be alright with you, of course.”

Makoto thought that she glimpsed a slight tinge of pink on Haru’s cheeks, although it might only have been the pink roses that peppered her pajamas complementing her fair complexion. 

“I think… I think that would be more than alright.” 

* * *

Once Makoto had changed and washed up as well, she slid underneath the sheets just as she did every night. Tonight, however, instead of picking up a book and spending the next half hour curled up with the exploits of rival all-girl biker gangs, she lay face to face with her impossibly adorable teammate.

“Well, good night,” Makoto said, leaning over Haru in order to turn off the bedside light.

“...Mako-chan?” Haru’s voice rang out in the sudden dark.

“What is it?” Makoto strained to make out Haru’s expression, eyes still struggling to adjust. 

“Thank you for letting me stay.”

“Of course. Any of us would have.” Makoto could make out the outline of Haru’s face now, her lips tugging into a fretful frown. “Something’s bothering you?”

“That house… _My_ house,” The uncertain tone in Haru’s voice made it sound as if she were still getting used to the concept of now owning her home. “It’s so big, and so quiet. I just… With the rain the way it was and all… I just had to be away from there tonight.”

“You’re here now,” Makoto soothed, reaching under the covers until she found Haru’s warm hand, lacing their fingers together. 

“I am,” Haru agreed, troubled expression wiped away like a dream come morning as she squeezed Makoto’s hand in return. “And I’m not lonely anymore.”

Art by [Honeycatdrop](https://honeycatdrop.tumblr.com/)

  



End file.
